


sword and the pen

by sybilius



Series: the winding road and the black river [2]
Category: Death Note
Genre: Addiction- Other, Bottom L, Canon Compliant, Canon-reflection, Cute dates (because Misa is adorbs), Depression, Explicit Sexual Content, L Feels, Light Angst, Literary flirting (our boys are too smart), M/M, Masochism, Mind Games, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:51:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5043730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybilius/pseuds/sybilius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>L has an addiction that only Kira understands (that kinship doesn't exist in others). Light is willing to understand every detail (except himself). They collide, and it might well destroy them. </p><p>A sequel to 'burn this city', which deliberately follows the canon from episodes 16-23. Work title is from Regina Spektor's song of the same title, which should be listened to following a reading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sword and the pen

L Lawliet knows all about pleasure. You wouldn’t know it by looking at him. You might know it by the flicker of a moment when an elegant cake smooths out over his tongue, but you’d discard that theory by the tense way he drops lump after lump of sugar into his coffee. Sugar, to L, is the most basic of pleasures, minimum for survival, and for thought. The other (possibly surprising) base pleasure that L understands is sexual in nature, specifically masturbation. He’s good at it in the utilitarian way that he has to be. It’s a necessary activity.

L ranks the second phase of pleasure (which he has recently discovered), as sexual activity with others. Possibly specifically with Light Yagami. He only has the one data point, and it will probably stay that way.

He spends most of his time chasing the third phase, the incomparable high of cases. There are three types: a simple case (minor high, barely a fix), a case with a story (high like fireworks on a sailboat, or a line of cocaine), and a case with a dangerous, twisting, intelligent story (high like skydiving or crack cocaine). L can’t get enough of it. The Kira case is a fourth type and fourth phase bundled into one. He suspects the same high might exist in other fields of extreme purity of intellect: topology, quantum electrodynamics, forensic medicine.

The fifth phase is the last one, the one he loves, but hates himself for. Perched in the glow of three televisions, watching Light Yagami curl up and still give him that hatefully knowing glare with the same sky high eyes.  Some addicts will say if they just reach that one, perfect hit, they’ll quit because nothing else will ever compare. It’s close to that, L is sure. He reaches for the microphone.

“Light, you’ve only been here for one week, but I’m sure it can’t be easy. Are you feeling all right?”

 “Yeah. I know I must look pretty bad. But this useless pride,” _There it is_. That wicked glint, the razor garotte in every move Light Yagami makes. L breathes in that intoxication, “I suppose I’ll have to _get rid of it._ ”

For a half moment Light meets his eyes, and through the camera he sees a perfect reflection of himself. Both believe that _they_ have won. It’s the edge. L felt it when he held the cell phone to his ear, felt it when he whispered his identity to Light among a crowd of hundreds. Light hunkers in to his chest. When he rises, the spark in him has been snuffed to the core.

“Why am I doing this? I don't belong here.” he looks up, a pitiful reflection of what he was,  “Ryuzaki, I realize that I was the one pushing for confinement and I asked you to put me in here. But I just realized something important; this whole thing is completely pointless.”

The words wash over L like a bucket of ice. Light’s eyes shine with a sincerity L has only ever seen in snatches, between T’ai Chi and the taste of sweat on skin. Something has changed. Something important.

“Because I’m not Kira! You have to get me out of here!”

* * *

 

Precisely on schedule, Kira kills two weeks debt the next day. It’s too perfect, too aligned, taunting him. L shivers off the feeling of victory and puts his mind to the whetstone. Oh yes. Light is good. Very, very good.  A week passes. The melancholy builds. A month passes. Guilt. 

 _No._  This certainty, this _divine_ truth that Light Yagami is Kira overwhelms him. He must do whatever it takes. From the third eye at the dashboard he watches, desperate. To see that reflection of madness glitter back at him from those damnably innocent eyes. A gunshot. Nothing.

“Were you watching, Ryuzaki?” The guilt. It’s such that he lacks the will to breathe _._ “I did exactly as you said, and as you can see, I'm still alive.”

From his perch at headquarters, L forces himself to take in oxygen. Voice even. Get set, go. “Yes. It was a convincing performance,” part of him inside laughs sardonically, “If Amane were the second Kira, who only needs to see a person’s face to kill them, there’s no doubt she would have killed you before you had a chance to fire your weapon. Also, if Light was in fact Kira, the Kira I know wouldn’t hesitate to kill even his own father himself.”

_But then…where are you, my Kira?_

It doesn’t take long to gather them back at to the hotel, where he explains the terms of their release to Light and Amane. Amane accepts, her weakness to suggestion making her unbelievably pliable. Light accepts it. With a question in his eyes.

L doesn’t want to hear the question, or the answer. He places the handcuffs carefully on Light’s wrists. It’s impossible to miss the jump in Light’s pulse when they touch.

“Are you sure this is necessary, Ryuzaki?”

“This is as difficult for me as it is for you,”

“So this is what you meant by being together 24 hours a day with him?” Misa chirps, “Looking at you, I never would have guessed. Are you on that side of the fence, Ryuzaki?”

“I told you, I’m not doing this because I want to. Ok?” The glance Light gives him is two parts anger (the righteous kind of police officers that disapprove of his methods), one part sadness (the confession regret from murder of passion? L shivers. He’s always loathed that look, always turned away when he saw it through an interrogation feed). L stares him down blankly, and Light puts up a mask. _You always were good at that_.

That evening, L ascends the elevator, chained to Light, in silence. They are on the twenty-third floor. L has always loved heights, the vertigo, the vision, the quiet. The chain clinks. L has always hated avoidance, prefers confrontation. His hands are shaking. He hasn’t slept in almost four days. He hasn’t felt anything apart from guilt (blue poison) and defeat (is he the one to lose? is Kira? Has he lost because he has lost Kira?) in three weeks.

Few people also know L Lawliet well enough to realize that he has a great appreciation for aesthetics. The room is stunning, clean modernist line tempered with a few traditional Japanese accents, a tasteful Classical sculpture. A single, generously sized bed on the edge of the room.

“Oh.” Light’s voice is cold, “We’re sleeping together.”

“Yes,” L strips down to his boxers, “Is that a problem?”

L can’t even read the type of anger in Light’s eyes, “Ryuzaki, I honestly can’t believe you. You keep me locked up for a _month_ after it’s clear I’m innocent. You force my father to put on a charade that might have permanently damaged him and Misa,” his eyes are almost Kira-slits now, “You pulled me into sleeping with you, then tossed me aside like trash.”

“I don’t understand.” L’s voice is dull, exhausted, “Why were you expecting us to continue our involvement?”

“Why did we stop in the first place?”

“It wasn’t necessary to continue.”

“Why? Because I wasn’t good enough for you?” Light almost spat in his face.

"Light, don't be childish."

"Or is it because you thought I was Kira? If so, why the hell did you invite me in the first place?"

“You hated me. And yes, I have reason to believe it is because you are Kira.” L sits on the bed, draws his knees in close, hands shaking. He just wants to fall over, and _rest_ a moment, an hour, a year.

“That makes no sense. I could never hate you! I’m working with you to _catch_ Kira! I’m trying to help you! I care about you.” Light didn’t mean to let that come out, L can tell. _Too predictable. Kira. I can’t fathom you right now._ “I care about this case.”

 L crunches himself further in at this point, voice flat, “I do too. Let’s try our best to get some rest.”

“Get some rest? Together, in this bed, as if nothing has happened? You can’t possibly expect me to—” L is frozen over, eyes squeezed shut. And Light stops (as Kira never would), relents and strips down in silence next to the bed.

L breathes out. Switches off the light. The bed shivers, or is that him? Adrenaline. _How inopportune._ The shaking continues, grows more intense. Breathe in. Breathe out. He nearly flinches out of his skin when a single finger touches him gently, soft on the ridge of his spine. Then his body relaxes into the touch without his permission. Gentle circles on his back.

 “Does that help?” a jerk, involuntary, a nod. The warmth. He breathes back into those steady fingers. Once, twice, the adrenaline fades out to a dull ache. It would be just him and the guilt, but those hands shift with purpose, rub his sides, balm his nervous system.  L just breathes in, breathes out, sweats it off. Feels another human behind him. Soft.

“Look, L.” Light presses his forehead where spine meets neck, “I’m angry. Angrier than I’ve ever been. But I _hate_ seeing you like this. So just, please. Sleep.”

The echo of those words against memory shouldn’t be a comfort (but they are).

* * *

 

L is grateful for the work Light forces on him. Not as grateful as he is for the bruises blossoming on his face, but still. The work is there, and it’s a gorgeous gift to have that mind working with his. _Though not as exciting as working with Kira_ , the greedy part of him whispers, and he avoids that statement, lashes out instead. If Light gives him a stricken look from his childish (frankly, vicious) treatment of Aizawa, L just turns away so as not to see it.

L continues to make a study of Light (for reasons related to the case alone). Light has read some objectivist literature (so unsurprising), and loves _The Catcher in the Rye_ (typical), and _Slaughterhouse-Five_ (not typical at all). Light is disinterested by his sister, and lies so casually to his father it may be compulsive. In fact, he lies to everyone except L (because he can’t get away with it?). Light continues to give him sidelong glances, and L selfishly gives him nothing. He can’t give him anything right now (he doesn’t accept the possibility that Light barely lies to him because he doesn’t want to).

They sleep at opposite sides of the bed, L always with his back to Light. Light keeps his distance, clearly believing that L is avoiding him, or perhaps he’s still angry. L tells himself it’s for the better. He does not tell Light that he’s since realized he likes best to be touched on his back, that it’s not that avoidance he’s always hated (even though he is still guilty of that).

It isn’t till the Matsuda Incident (Light’s _brilliant_ name, not his), that they actually exchange a conversation beyond the case. L drives with a kind of brutal efficiency, not dangerous, but just pushing the limit of what would be considered legal. Light regards him with interest, and L tries to ignore it (but can’t avoid forever, it’s not in his nature).

“I’m glad you came up with a way to save Matsuda,” Light tries (fails) for casual conversation, “That was some quick-thinking.”

"It's nothing of consequence. We’re actually lucky Misa was present, and that to her credit, she is good at following instruction.”

“Still. I’m glad you found a way around it.”

“Don’t act like I was some kind of hero. I did what was necessary, that’s all.” So maybe L wasn’t avoiding speaking with him, he just wasn’t enjoying it.

“Stop playing the villain, that’s not necessary. We’d all be happier in the task force if you did.”

“You are incorrect. I like to play the hero, Light. But if everyone did that, we’d get nowhere. You’ve seen what I do. I don’t know why you, of all people, would call me a hero.” He drums his fingers on the wheels (hoping to dispose of these ridiculous hats as soon as possible).

“You have to make tough calls for the greater good. I get it. But you know where your limits are, and I really respect that about you.”

“Yes. I know where my limits are, and I push past them whenever I can find an excuse to do so."

“Why do you keep trying to say bad things about yourself?”

“Why do you never examine yourself critically, to the point where you believe your own lies?” And oh, there he goes. Too far again. There’s _real_ hurt in Light’s eyes.

"I’m sorry. That went too far.” There is silence in the van for a long time.

“I didn’t realize you _could_ apologize,” and Light can be nasty too, he can be cold (and hasn’t L missed that sting?).

“If I have to.”

Light sighs as they round to the place where Aiber should be waiting, "Look, this isn’t the conversation I wanted to have. I think maybe we should keep our relationship professional. At least until the case is closed. Then we can talk, but for now I’d rather go back to pretending we’re friends."

"That seems...reasonable. And you will continue to work alongside me? You truly are an asset to the case, despite being one of its primary suspects."

Light glares at him, but in spite of that states, "So, you like working with me."

"Light, I love working with you. Isn't that obvious?" then he catches Light's smirk and vividly remembers what it was like to lick those lips until they bit him back. 

* * *

 

As if to spite him, the next day the case hands over a no-win scenario that L knows (itches) to play the omniscient witness for. Though he's impressed (impossible not to be) with Light's bold and quick thinking in generating a mole within the Yotsuba group, Light's fairy-story heroics turn his stomach. In petulant resistance to Light's opposition spoiling his high, he takes this opportunity to put him under the microscope yet again.

"You really are quite amazing, Light. Not only did you manage to delay the killings, but you also set us up Namikawa as a potential mole for us, L glanced sidelong at Light's jaw, "sounds exactly like the sort of thing I would do. And you thought of it quicker than I did. At this rate, if I end up dying somehow, it's quite possible that you would be capable of succeeding me."

It takes only a few angry words to put the fire back in Light’s eyes, the green sharpness of betrayal. Still, Light is able to discern exactly what L is thinking. _Oh yes, he plays the game so very well_. L wants to believe him, and at the same time, he pushes since letting go of Light-Kira seems too overwhelming, and still very wrong. He knows he’s gone too far when Light puts a hand gently on his shoulder, spins him around to force their gaze together.

"Do you think I'm actually capable of becoming a murderer, Kira?" L forgets to think for a minute. _The lethal part of his eyes is still Kira. The anger is…that’s my fault._ "Even after I help catch him? Do I seem like that kind of person to you?"

 _There's nothing for that except honesty._  "Yes, you do. I've always thought so." That brief flicker of resignation, of acceptance in Light's amber eyes makes the blow landing on his cheek all the sweeter. The disgusted look Light gives him shivers like Kira. He spins back to his work, tensely adding sugar cubes one at a time. He can feel Light’s eyes at his fingertips.

As the others talk around their hero-schemes, the (hateful) part of L that loves situations like these grows impatient. _This is why I work alone._ And L acts on that thought, forcing the hand of the task force members.

"Are you saying you want to catch Kira by any means necessary?" Chief Yagami demands, outraged.

"Yes. This case will never be solved unless we capture Kira himself," _idealistic idiots_. He states his thoughts blandly as the plan takes shape in his mind. Before fully deciding, he stands, strides up the stairs, Light in tow.

"Wait, Ryuzaki, where are you going?"

"To Amane's room. I'm sorry, I know you're on your father's side in all of this," L makes no effort to sound apologetic, "But I can't remove those handcuffs. I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me."

The recklessness of the exchange convinces him further that this is the right move. He marches Light into Amane's room, _like it or not, we will make those calls, greater good or no._

"Misa Amane! Tell me, do you love Light from the bottom of your heart?" The manipulation is far _too_ easy, only as exhilarating as parachuting from an open plane. Even with Light (not Kira) opposing him, he knows too many buttons to press for Light to stop it.

"We're running out of time. And I'm starting to get desperate," That much is not a lie, nor a half-truth, "As for Misa Amane, I've turned to her because I know her bravery and love for you is boundless."

"Do you really mean it?" Misa's face shines with devotion, "Oh no, I've totally misunderstood you all this time! I even called you a pervert! But you actually understand how I feel, don't you?"

"Yes! Misa is undoubtedly the most perfect and worthy woman for Light." and she really can't argue with that.

 A strange mix of disgust and admiration lurks in Light's eyes as Misa kisses him on the cheek.

 _That I didn't expect_. "You know, I could actually fall for you," L murmurs, and barely catches Light's amused huff.

"Let's not go that far," Misa slings her arm next to Light, who regards her with disinterest, "But you could maybe be a friend of mine. Would that be okay?"

"Yes," he offers a crooked smile to Light, _so I've gained yet another friend._

There remains only the matter of getting Light to join him, which is all too simple while Misa is on his side, and Light is playing clean (and, as L well knows, does, in fact, want to work with him). As Misa takes them by the hands and they spins, L loses himself to a lightness he's not sure he's ever felt. It's lovely. 

“Wait! I’ll do this on one condition!” Misa stops twirling for a moment, smiling shyly, “Light has to take me to the night carnival!”

“What?” Light looks genuinely confused, “But I’m a little…tied up with the case.”

“Silly, Ryuzaki can come with us, seeing as we’re all friends now. Besides, I think you could use a night off, don’t you think, Light darling?”

L watches Light’s uncomfortable expression shift to something sly, “Yes, actually. I think that’s a great idea. Something outside of the case. Tomorrow?”

L has the strangest feeling that look has been in his own eyes, dancing mischief(it’s only fair that he accepts the tango when offered back). So in spite of the hollow anger at the depth of him, he nods. When Light smiles at him, it just might be worth it.

* * *

 

Misa Amane is practically glowing, a skip in her step underneath her baby blue dress, her hand clasped tightly around Light’s. The evening carnival is a constellation of brightness,  colors streaking along the water. The scent of salty popcorn and cotton candy drifts along the breeze. The chain that links L and Light is wrapped thrice around L’s wrists, their hands interlaced (so as not to attract attention, of course). Misa smiles at L in spite of herself.

“You two do look cute together! In a really, really weird way!” she chirps, and Light blushes while L simply glares.

“Do stop your teasing. It’s annoying.”

“You’re no fun! If you’re going to hold hands with my boyfriend, you have to be nice to me AND make this the best date ever!” L tried his best not to roll his eyes, "Come on, Light! I want to ride the carousel!" _dear Lord, why on earth did I agree to this_.

"Okay, Misa," Light's smile is warm, and L's lips twitch in spite himself, "But I can't go on with you."

"Why not?" she whines, and L resists the desire to kick her, suddenly embarrassed for the first time in years.

"I really can't stand spinny rides," Thank God Light was astute. And kind. "But we can ride the roller-coaster afterwards, okay?"

"Ooh, only if you're there for me to hold on to!"

As it turns out, the roller coaster is closer than the carousel, and mercifully seats three (which prevents Misa from throwing a hissy fit). It's a rickety wooden beast called "The Russian Mountain", which tickles the part of L that's spent some time in Paris. There’s a fair share of adrenaline-inducing drops, which keeps his knuckles white against Lights as they bump and jostle along the coaster. Misa, of course, screeches through the whole thing, her pigtails whipping behind them.

"OH. MY GOD." Misa's voice is a few Hertz short of being only perceptible by dogs, and a few decibels short of causing deafness.

"Dear lord," he murmurs as they dismount the car, " _L'enfer, c'est les autres_."

Light chuckles, which surprises L, "You speak French?"

"Not quite-- I've read a translation of _No Exit_. It's a great read. Do you speak French? You must, I suppose, for your job."

In spite of himself, L quirks the smile he knows is his most seductive, "It lends a certain _je-ne-sais-quoi_. Have you read _La Nausée_?"

"No, just _No Exit_."

"Well, I think perhaps you should. It’s a lot better than _L’Etrangere,_ in my opinion."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Liiiiight! Misa bursts in, "There's the carousel! Can we?"

"You ride, I'll get your picture though!" Misa giggles and jumps aboard, selecting a white Palamino with a pink saddle. She really does make a gorgeous picture, Light looking every bit the perfect boyfriend, casually snapping pictures from the sidelines. L carefully unwraps the length of the chain, sidestepping to the sugar-scent of the bright orange wagon next door. Light quirks an eyebrow at him and he puts a finger to his lips.

A moment later, L proudly returns with a candy apple, a caramel apple, and a fluffy stick of cotton candy.  He gives the apples to Light, smiling.

“I’m not sure if you expect me to eat both of these, or if you’re planning to.” Light teases.

“Don’t be silly,” L grins through a mouthful of pink, “The caramel one is for you, the candy one is for Misa. She’ll appreciate the gift, especially from you.”

"Oh. Well that's sweet," Light swipes his tongue along the caramel apple, "On second thought, you give it to her. I don't want to encourage her. Besides, I know you're sweet on her."

L takes this opportunity to toss the piece of cotton candy he's taken off at Light, which immediately sticks to his hair. Light brushes it away and stuffs a handful of L's cotton candy in his mouth, L retaliating with a vicious bite of the caramel apple. They both dissolve into giggles.

L suddenly remembers how much younger Light sounds when he laughs, just like this. "Do you think we could just…keep this up?” He can’t think what he means by that, but Light knows.

Light meets his eyes, "I think we'd get bored. But I'm having a nice time."

"Me too."

Predictably, Misa squeals and kisses L on the cheek when he gives her the apple, and he most certainly does _not_ blush (he blushes when Light winks at him and squeezes his hand, just briefly). They ride the Ferris wheel, with Misa making eyes at Light, Light side-glancing, trying to let her down like a proper gentleman,  L just being with, watching the moon cycle closer and further. Light plays baseball throw, to the delight of the jeering carnies, and wins Misa a stuffed elephant. L, as it turns out, has a wickedly accurate throw, and wins Misa a giant panda bear (much to the chagrin of the jeering carnies).

“It looks just like you, Ryuga!”

“She’s right, it does.”

“Oh, be quiet, both of you,” a grotesque looking front catches his eye, “Oh! Haunted house! I’ve always wanted to look at one of those!”

“You’ve never been in a haunted house?” Light asks.

“Well, I’ve actually never been to a carnival before,” L admits.

“Oooh, I can’t stand haunted houses, I get waaaaay too scared!”

“Let’s go in,” Light turns his chocolate eyes to L, “Don’t worry Misa, I’ll protect you.”

“Well, okay! As long as you’re right there the entire time!”

A gaudy-looking Shinigami stands at the door and ushers them in. It’s half-light on the inside, with Misa shrieking into Light’s arm at every display. They’re relatively predictable. Skeletons, the yurei and the hungry reapers. L smiles at a whispering skull, feeling simultaneously discomfited and at home. The dark lighting emphasizes Light’s strong cheekbones (a classical beauty that is not lost on L). A pale hand reaches out to grab Misa’s back and she shrieks, jumps a mile and tries simultaneously to pull Light and run as fast as she can, toppling L on top of Light in a tangle of limbs.

When they unravel themselves, they’re in a dank hallway with ornate trick doors and mirrors, and Misa’s screams echo shrilly. “Misa!” Light calls, but it just echoes back, barely audible over her screams, “…you idiot. It’s no use. She’ll get out eventually.”

L says nothing, at first catching his reflection in the deliberately shattered mirror (pupils visibly dilated even with the poor lighting, elevated heartbeat), and Light’s strong shoulder blades beneath his neat white shirt. Light meets his eyes with interest.

“I’m guessing this stuff isn’t that scary for you.” there’s a challenge in Light’s eyes, and L is more than happy to meet it.

“Not so much. It looks like you’ve seen…or thought worse as well.”

“It’s getting me curious,” at these words, Light moves closer, his finger running on the inside of the wrist that is chained to L, “Who…or what is the greatest detective in the world afraid of?”

And _Oh_ , at Light’s words, L can feel Kira, so close. He is acutely aware of that body, a strong line in the half-shadow of the faux-candlelight. Then he’s aware of the fact that he’s pressed against plastic-stone, that it would just take Light one fluid movement to pin him to the wall. His body can’t help but react to that, but his mind is still astute enough to answer with an eye for leads.

“You don’t know him. But at one point, he was known as Ryuzaki.” in the half-light, L catches that flicker of annoyance, that deadly _pride_ that he was waiting to see. Almost immediately, the look is replaced by the familiar hungry curiosity.

“So you _became_ that which you fear most. That’s very bold.”

“I’m nothing like him. But we were very much like each other,” the contradiction seems to fit with L, “He was killed.”

They’re so very close now. L can feel Light’s breath on his neck, and he’s not sure if he wants to steal the kiss, or if he wants Light to. Light reaches the hand that isn’t cuffed to L, and puts his thumb on L’s carotid. L forgets to breathe. Light’s eyes are dark slits as he leans in and catches L’s breath with his mouth. Light’s lips reach his, softly, ever so dangerously, then he pulls away with a hooded look in his eyes.

“You know Ryuzaki…it’s not like you to let your suspects run free like this,” the words reverberate over him like bells.  L takes a sharp breath, hooking his leg over Light to topple him before the other can blink, scoops him deftly over his shoulder and hits the ground running, “Hey! What! Stop that, I was kidding!”

“Shut up!” his yell echoes back against the horror-show, past lights until he hears the screams again, _She’s close, but I might be too late_. Two turns, a hall of masks, a bloody hand reaching out… then moonlight again. Misa Amane is there at the gate, bawling her eyes out. L breathes out, and she notices them.  
  
“LIGHT!!” she swarms the two of them, “Did you pass out?”

“What? No! Ryuga, let me down!”

“As you wish.” L drops him unceremoniously in the dirt.

“That was mean!” Misa tries to kick him and he levels her with a glare. She puts out a hand, but Light pushes it away.

“No, it was my fault,” L could see in his glare the unspoken violation of trust. _Not sure how he expected me to act… unless he was testing my trust in this case_. It occurs to L, not for the first time, how utterly similar he is to Light.

“Are you alright, Misa?” Misa and Light give L an equally surprised glance.

“I am now!” she throws her arms around Light, “Thanks, though! You’re a real friend, taking care of my Light in there.”

L avoids Light’s eyes. “Yeah. Let’s head out. It’s getting late.”

* * *

 

Back in their room on the twenty-second floor, Light paces back and forth. L simply perches on the couch, thinking in parallel about the case, and about how beautiful Light looks in his room, his nervous contrapposto fitting in perfectly with the classical accents.

“Okay,” Light seems to have made a decision, and he fixes L with a hard look, “I’m not going to apologize. I think you’ve got a lot more to apologize for in terms of playing mind games. But after what happened in the haunted house…I’m definitely willing to say I understand why you think I’m Kira.”

“Oh?” L fixes him with discerning grey eyes, “Why have you come to this conclusion?”

“I was playing at it. I wondered what you would do...but playing Kira feels natural. It feels…exhilarating. I like it.”

“I like it too," L slipped. Light was far too good at getting him to admit things.

"Why do you think I started playing at it?" Light grins, half-flirtatious, half seriousness, "You're a little messed up, Ryuzaki. I guess we both are."

L lets out a huff of impatience, standing, but keeping his eyes on Light. “It's very frustrating. The fact that you…enthrall me as Kira only makes my desire to catch Kira more complex," Light moves closer to him, and he is rooted as he whispers, "One wrong move, and it could cost me my life.

“L,” and Light only uses his title when he’s really trying to get his attention, so he meets the sparked brown eyes, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” L replies without hesitation, “Kira or no, I do in this moment.”

“Then... trust Kira." Light _does_ pin him against the wall by the shoulders this time, hand crawling up the cotton of L's shirt to rest his thumb on that sinuous neck. His amber eyes meet L's, questioning, and _of course_ L has to let go, succumb to it. He swallows against the beautiful amber fear.

"Safeword is time," Light's watch is ticking next to his ear, ominous. Light smiles that slow, dark, sick smile, “I’m yours until then.”

Immediately Light’s mouth is on his, dragging teeth against the bone of his jaw and devouring him with sensation. The kiss shifts to tender, exploratory, tongue over neck deceptive. L breathes full on into the shell of Light’s ear, nibbling at the lobe until a hand shoves his forehead to the wall.

“All I’ve wanted is to hear you breathe,” that vicious gasp at his ear, “So I can hear it stop.” Fingers at his throat, “And then make it start again.” Light practically tears the cotton shirt off,  pinning L’s hands, then appears to think better of it.

“Strip me. Don’t touch me,” Light demands. His eyes have Kira written in black pupils, and L’s spider fingers shake as he unbuttons the shirt carefully, Light’s finger pressed (to leave a purple mark) into the live pulse at his wrist. When he reaches the pants, he can feel Light deeply hard through the fabric, but stays under that imperious glare.

“You think dominating me makes you powerful, yet from here, I learn everything about you,” L is all challenge (in spite of the jump of his heart). He pulls Light’s slacks off in a fluid motion, blows breath just so to make Light’s hips twitch. Light retaliates, pins his hands and strips him down to his ethereally white, strong flesh. L takes a moment to appreciate the contrast between Light’s rich tone before Light demands a forceful kiss, taking hold of L

“I know,” and Light presses a finger against L’s tip almost painfully for emphasis, “Everything I need to know to take care of you.” The way he says it is a threat (a promise), and constellations burst between L’s eyes. Light shoves him to the ground, wraps the handcuffs once, twice around L’s hands so that they’re tied behind his back. An indistinct noise, then Light wraps a lube-covered hand around L’s erection, working his finger in slow circles into his entrance. He slips the first finger in, L _gasps_ , _so different when it’s someone else, different when it’s Kira_. He plays his trump card, breathless.

“I saw it in your eyes, in the haunted house. You were disappointed, for a moment, that my greatest fear was not Kira. Is that right?” L rolls his hips backwards onto Light’s erection, eliciting a deep growl.

“Yes.” Two fingers now, it’s painful. The pain is beautiful. Three, and _ohh_ , L moans into the sensation, “I wanted you to fear him, because I want you to fear me.”

“I do. And I was lying.” That seems to please Light even more, he grabs a fistful of L’s hair to bring him in for a bruising kiss. Then, he eases his hand out, keeping his eyes locked on L’s blown-black vision.

“I’m not going to let you take what you want. You want to win, don’t you? To beat Kira?” at once, Light breaches L with his entire length, and all L can do is gasp and claw at the rug, “You won’t.”

“Yes. I will.” and L finds it in him, that earthen fire that pushes him to fight back, pushes him thrusting against Light, writhing against the chains. Light takes hold of him in an iron grip, finding a brutal rhythm. “Kira!” he cries out, and Light bites his ear, “L.”

Waves of pleasure overwhelming every possible sensation, Light bites down at his shoulder, thrusts to the prostate, and whispers a rattle of _petit mort_ next to his ear. They collapse, Light screaming next to him. The entire room reverberates with energy. When Light’s hand relaxes into his hair, suddenly, they are human again, lovely in a pile of sweat and limbs.

L distantly re-categorizes sex with Light (Kira) as a phase 3.5. He kisses Light’s ear absently. Light is breathing _hard_ , much harder than the last time, and L turns over just in time to see that darkness fade from his eyes. He strokes Light’s back, “Thank you.”

Light closes his eyes, and L tries not to think about what it has cost him (what it has cost them). When they both can move, Light rubs salve on L’s delicate red wrists, and L kisses his lips. They settle in, Light’s hands around L’s chest, until they breathe together, breathe in sleep.

L’s sleep is shallow. At around three he notices Light’s hands are no longer warm against him, that Light’s shadow is casting over him in the dawn half-light. The shimmer highlights the tension in a body of strong curve and edged muscle. L raises his grey eyes, “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” L takes this opportunity to sling his arms around Light’s waist, pressing his smile into the other’s hip.

“What are you thinking?”

“I was thinking about the case.”

“Don’t lie to me, Light,” L nibbles into his thigh, “Not to me, and certainly not here.”

“I was thinking about being Kira,” at this, L feels a tremor go through Light. _Is that…fear?_ “Just…all of this. It would be so easy for me to be Kira. And I’m the right profile, the right mind for it too. I’m starting to want to…avoid facts about the case.”

“Are you afraid of what you might learn?” L eyes Light’s grimace.

“Yes. I am afraid.” at Light’s admission, L grips him tight.  _We are two of a kind, powerful beings trying to force on the world a kind of perfection they can’t hope to find for themselves_.

“If… we find out I am Kira. Or I become Kira again. Will you catch me, will you stop me?”

“That’s just pillow talk.”

“No, I’m serious!” Light is almost desperate now.

L hesitates, “If I can,” he burrows into Light’s ribs, coming up to kiss him under the jaw. Light presses a kiss to L’s forehead absently.

“I think the lying rule should apply to you, too.”

“Here’s a question to answer,” and here, L gave Light the full force of his slate-black eyes, “If you were Kira, would you want me to catch you?”

“No. But now, I don’t know anymore.”

“Neither do I,” L guides Light to lie down, rests his cheek against Light's chest, “And I think that’s the answer to your question as well.”

* * *

 

Another week passes, working on the case, stealing human wonders in the evening, pretending the bruises come from their fighting (L has to assure Light that Watari is not, in fact, watching them on surveillance). The fall is starting to turn in the leaves. Their gambit is drawing near. On the day of the plan, for once, it's L who awakes with Light next to him. Light smiles down at him, leaning against the wooden headboard with the translation of L'Etrangere from L's shelf.

"Morning. I made tea," Light passes a porcelain cup and saucer to L.

“I thought I told you to read _La Nausée_. Contrarian.”

Light bites him on the shoulder, “You don’t have an English copy _._ ”

“True.”

"You slept in a bit. Relieved because it will be over soon?"

"Nothing so optimistic," L sips the tea, which is satisfactory with six sugars, "in fact, when a case is over, I'm usually tense, depressed, uncertain as to what will come next."

Light puts a hand on L's shoulder, "and are you?"

"A bit, yes. But not because it's ending, in fact, the opposite. I have a strange feeling that something bigger is just beginning.” Light knows to wait for L to finish his thought.

“This...corporate Kira, who acts of his own ambition,” Light’s amber eyes are distracting, yet he thinks better under them, “There's no way he is the original.”

“My instincts say you’re right, but what’s led you to this conclusion?”

“The previous Kira had a very different goal in mind. Everything he did was very flagrant, obvious. It’s calculated, it’s careful, but he wants people to _know_ what he has done. The criminals killed since the hiatus have been meaningless. Textbook, even. It doesn’t fit.”

Light considers that for a moment, “I understand the original Kira’s goal was to rid the world of evil. As I’ve mentioned,” and here he bites his lip, torn between horror and fascination, “We think…very similarly.”

“But you see, that’s just a front, Light. That’s where you and Kira differ. Kira knows what it’s like to play God, and craves that above all else.”

“And you know that because you like to play God yourself.”

“Yes,” L has to whisper the last admission, and Light is _damnably_ astute, slipping his hands to catch the vulnerability in L’s ribcage. They hold each other for a moment and then L speaks, “What I tell myself is that the difference between he and I is that I feel guilt. I pursue the high anyways. I hate it.”

“You don’t…have to put yourself through this, L.” Light whispers, and L almost laughs as a whimper.

“You really don’t understand. It’s…addictive. More addictive than anything I’ve known. I can self-justify when it’s a necessary evil. But every time I do so, it gets a little harder to crash.”

Light nods somberly, just rubs his fingers up and down. L suddenly has a thought, speaks: “Always torn between the winding road next to the black river and the shining cliff-side painted with blood.”

“That was…surprisingly poetic.” Light kisses him absently, "Was that about you, or is it about Kira?"

L thinks a moment, "anyone really. I feel almost as if you should know what I mean, even if you're not aware of it."

“I think I do.” The kiss, soft and tightly held, passes life between them. That’s when L _felt_ it.

Hours later, when a black-written notebook passes with a scream between them, L _knows_ , that in that moment, Light was telling the truth (with lies). It is then, as a murderer staggers towards the helicopter in the bleak light, that he wishes (the only wish he’s ever made) on an answer. In response, bells chime distantly across the inky sky, and they _fall_.

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, the quoted parts of the canon I own no part of. I would like to say, however, that the writers know how to play to their Yaoi audiences, and that episode 25 works to THIS canon without me having to say a damn thing. I still can't believe a foot massage was canon. 
> 
> Some commentary on the work:  
> -Please listen to the song :) (this isn't a songfic, but that song is a freakin' dream).  
> -This is my attempt to reconcile the canon with my understanding of Light and L, but if you're dissatisfied with unresolved things in this fic, fear not! I still have one more story to tell before I close this off.  
> -If you're thinking about trying BDSM, don't do what these two did (more communication is needed ;) )  
> -The carnival scene is my favourite :3


End file.
